For perhaps the tenth time in the course of the journey Kirkwood withdrew his gaze from the window and turned to the girl, a question ready framed upon his lips.
"Are you quite sure—" he began; and then, alive to the clear and penetrating13 perception in the brown eyes that smiled into his from under their level brows, he stammered14 and left the query15 uncompleted.
Continuing to regard him steadily16 and smilingly, Dorothy shook her head in playful denial and protest. "Do you know," she commented, "that this is about the fifth repetition of that identical question within the last quarter-hour?"
"How do you know what I meant to say?" he demanded, staring.
"I can see it in your eyes. Besides, you've talked and thought of nothing else since we left the boat. Won't you believe me, please, when I say there's absolutely not a soul in London to whom I could go and ask for shelter? I don't think it's very nice of you to be so openly anxious to get rid of me."
This latter was so essentially17 undeserved and so artlessly insincere, that he must needs, of course, treat it with all seriousness.
"That isn't fair, Miss Calendar. Really it's not."
"What am I to think? I've told you any number of times that it's only an hour's ride on to Chiltern, where the Pyrfords will be glad to take me in. You may depend upon it,—by eight to-night, at the latest, you'll have me off your hands,—the drag and worry that I've been ever since—"
"Don't!" he pleaded vehemently18. "Please!... You know it isn't that. I don't want you off my hands, ever.... That is to say, I—ah—" Here he was smitten19 with a dumbness, and sat, aghast at the enormity of his blunder, entreating20 her forgiveness with eyes that, very likely, pleaded his cause more eloquently21 than he guessed.
"I mean," he floundered on presently, in the fatuous22 belief that he would this time be able to control both mind and tongue, "what I mean is I'd be glad to go on serving you in any way I might, to the end of time, if you'd give me...."
He left the declaration inconclusive—a stroke of diplomacy23 that would have graced an infinitely24 more adept25 wooer. But he used it all unconsciously. "O Lord!" he groaned26 in spirit. "Worse and more of it! Why in thunder can't I say the right thing right?"
Egotistically absorbed by the problem thus formulated27, he was heedless of her failure to respond, and remained pensively28 preoccupied29 until roused by the grinding and jolting30 of the train, as it slowed to a halt preparatory to crossing the bridge.
Then he sought to read his answer in the eyes of Dorothy. But she was looking away, staring thoughtfully out over the billowing sea of roofs that merged31 illusively into the haze32 long ere it reached the horizon; and Kirkwood could see the pulsing of the warm blood in her throat and cheeks; and the glamorous33 light that leaped and waned34 in her eyes, as the ruddy evening sunlight warmed them, was something any man might be glad to live for and die for.... And he saw that she had understood, had grasped the thread of meaning that ran through the clumsy fabric35 of his halting speech and his sudden silences.
She had understood without resentment36!
While, incredulous, he wrestled37 with the wonder of this fond discovery, she grew conscious of his gaze, and turned her head to meet it with one fearless and sweet, if troubled.
"Dear Mr. Kirkwood," she said gently, bending forward as if to read between the lines anxiety had graven on his countenance38, "won't you tell me, please, what it can be that so worries you? Is it possible that you still have a fear of my father? But don't you know that he can do nothing now—now that we're safe? We have only to take a cab to Paddington Station, and then—"
"You mustn't underestimate the resource and ability of Mr. Calendar," he told her gloomily; "we've got a chance—no more. It wasn't...." He shut his teeth on his unruly tongue—too late.
Woman-quick she caught him up. "It wasn't that? Then what was it that worried you? If it's something that affects me, is it kind and right of you not to tell me?"
"It—it affects us both," he conceded drearily39. "I—I don't—"
The wretched embarrassment40 of the confession41 befogged his wits; he felt unable to frame the words. He appealed speechlessly for tolerance42, with a face utterly43 woebegone and eyes piteous.
The train began to move slowly across the Thames to Charing Cross.
Mercilessly the girl persisted. "We've only a minute more. Surely you can trust me...."
In exasperation44 he interrupted almost rudely. "It's only this: I—I'm strapped45."
"Strapped?" She knitted her brows over this fresh specimen46 of American slang.
"Flat strapped—busted—broke—on my uppers—down and out," he reeled off synonyms47 without a smile. "I haven't enough money to pay cab-fare across the town—"
"Oh!" she interpolated, enlightened.
"—to say nothing of taking us to Chiltern. I couldn't buy you a glass of water if you were thirsty. There isn't a soul on earth, within hail, who would trust me with a quarter—I mean a shilling—across London Bridge. I'm the original Luckless Wonder and the only genuine Jonah extant."
With a face the hue of fire, he cocked his eyebrows48 askew49 and attempted to laugh unconcernedly to hide his bitter shame. "I've led you out of the fryingpan into the fire, and I don't know what to do! Please call me names."
And in a single instant all that he had consistently tried to avoid doing, had been irretrievably done; if, with dawning comprehension, dismay flickered50 in her eyes—such dismay as such a confession can rouse only in one who, like Dorothy Calendar, has never known the want of a penny—it was swiftly driven out to make place for the truest and most gracious and unselfish solicitude51.
"Oh, poor Mr. Kirkwood! And it's all because of me! You've beggared yourself—"
"Not precisely52; I was beggared to begin with." He hastened to disclaim53 the extravagant54 generosity55 of which she accused him. "I had only three or four pounds to my name that night we met.... I haven't told you—I—"
"You've told me nothing, nothing whatever about yourself," she said reproachfully.
"I didn't want to bother you with my troubles; I tried not to talk about myself.... You knew I was an American, but I'm worse than that; I'm a Californian—from San Francisco." He tried unsuccessfully to make light of it. "I told you I was the Luckless Wonder; if I'd ever had any luck I would have stored a little money away. As it was, I lived on my income, left my principal in 'Frisco; and when the earthquake came, it wiped me out completely."
"And you were going home that night we made you miss your steamer!"
"It was my own fault, and I'm glad this blessed minute that I did miss it. Nice sort I'd have been, to go off and leave you at the mercy—"
"Please! I want to think, I'm trying to remember how much you've gone through—"
"Precisely what I don't want you to do. Anyway, I did nothing more than any other fellow would've! Please don't give me credit that I don't deserve."
But she was not listening; and a pause fell, while the train crawled warily56 over the trestle, as if in fear of the foul57, muddy flood below.
"And there's no way I can repay you...."
"There's nothing to be repaid," he contended stoutly58.
She clasped her hands and let them fall gently in her lap. "I've not a farthing in the world!... I never dreamed.... I'm so sorry, Mr. Kirkwood—terribly, terribly sorry!... But what can we do? I can't consent to be a burden—"
"But you're not! You're the one thing that ..." He swerved59 sharply, at an abrupt60 tangent. "There's one thing we can do, of course."
She looked up inquiringly.
"Craven Street is just round the corner."
"Yes?"—wonderingly.
"I mean we must go to Mrs. Hallam's house, first off.... It's too late now,—after five, else we could deposit the jewels in some bank. Since—since they are no longer yours, the only thing, and the proper thing to do is to place them in safety or in the hands of their owner. If you take them directly to young Hallam, your hands will be clear.... And—I never did such a thing in my life, Miss Calendar; but if he's got a spark of gratitude61 in his make-up, I ought to be able to—er—to borrow a pound or so of him."
"Do you think so?" She shook her head in doubt. "I don't know; I know so little of such things.... You are right; we must take him the jewels, but..." Her voice trailed off into a sigh of profound perturbation.
He dared not meet her look.
Beneath his wandering gaze a County Council steam-boat darted62 swiftly down-stream from Charing Cross pier63, in the shadow of the railway bridge. It seemed curious to reflect that from that very floating pier he had started first upon his quest of the girl beside him, only—he had to count—three nights ago! Three days and three nights! Altogether incredible seemed the transformation64 they had wrought65 in the complexion66 of the world. Yet nothing material was changed.... He lifted his eyes.
Beyond the river rose the Embankment, crawling with traffic, backed by the green of the gardens and the shimmering67 walls of glass and stone of the great hotels, their windows glowing weirdly68 golden in the late sunlight. A little down-stream Cleopatra's Needle rose, sadly the worse for London smoke, flanked by its couchant sphinxes, wearing a nimbus of circling, sweeping69, swooping70, wheeling gulls71. Farther down, from the foot of that magnificent pile, Somerset House, Waterloo Bridge sprang over-stream in its graceful72 arch.... All as of yesterday; yet all changed. Why? Because a woman had entered into his life; because he had learned the lesson of love and had looked into the bright face of Romance....
With a jar the train started and began to move more swiftly.
Kirkwood lifted the traveling bag to his knees.
"Don't forget," he said with some difficulty, "you're to stick by me, whatever happens. You mustn't desert me."
"You know," the girl reproved him.
"I know; but there must be no misunderstanding.... Don't worry; we'll win out yet, I've a plan."
Splendide mendax! He had not the glimmering74 of a plan.
The engine panting, the train drew in beneath the vast sounding dome75 of the station, to an accompaniment of dull thunderings; and stopped finally.
Kirkwood got out, not without a qualm of regret at leaving the compartment76; therein, at least, they had some title to consideration, by virtue77 of their tickets; now they were utterly vagabondish, penniless adventurers.
The girl joined him. Slowly, elbow to elbow, the treasure bag between them, they made their way down toward the gates, atoms in a tide-rip of humanity,—two streams of passengers meeting on the narrow strip of platform, the one making for the streets, the other for the suburbs.
Hurried and jostled, the girl clinging tightly to his arm lest they be separated in the crush, they came to the ticket-wicket; beyond the barrier surged a sea of hats—shining "toppers," dignified78 and upstanding, the outward and visible manifestation79 of the sturdy, stodgy80 British spirit of respectability; "bowlers81" round and sleek82 and humble83; shapeless caps with cloth visors, manufactured of outrageous84 plaids; flower-like miracles of millinery from Bond Street; strangely plumed85 monstrosities from Petticoat Lane and Mile End Road. Beneath any one of these might lurk86 the maleficent brain, the spying eyes of Calendar or one of his creatures; beneath all of them that he encountered, Kirkwood peered in fearful inquiry87.
Yet, when they had passed unhindered the ordeal88 of the wickets, had run the gantlet of those thousand eyes without lighting89 in any pair a spark of recognition, he began to bear himself with more assurance, to be sensible to a grateful glow of hope. Perhaps Hobbs' telegram had not reached its destination, for unquestionably the mate would have wired his chief; perhaps some accident had befallen the conspirators90; perhaps the police had apprehended91 them.... No matter how, one hoped against hope that they had been thrown off the trail.
And indeed it seemed as if they must have been misguided in some providential manner. On the other hand, it would be the crassest92 of indiscretions to linger about the place an instant longer than absolutely necessary.
Outside the building, however, they paused perforce, undergoing the cross-fire of the congregated93 cabbies. It being the first time that he had ever felt called upon to leave the station afoot, Kirkwood cast about irresolutely94, seeking the sidewalk leading to the Strand95.
Abruptly96 he caught the girl by the arm and unceremoniously hurried her toward a waiting hansom.
"Quick!" he begged her. "Jump right in—not an instant to spare.—"
She nodded brightly, lips firm with courage, eyes shining.
"My father?"
"Yes." Kirkwood glanced back over his shoulder. "He hasn't seen us yet. They've just driven up. Stryker's with him. They're getting down." And to himself, "Oh, the devil!" cried the panic-stricken young man.
He drew back to let the girl precede him into the cab; at the same time he kept an eye on Calendar, whose conveyance97 stood half the length of the station-front away.
The fat adventurer had finished paying off the driver, standing73 on the deck of the hansom. Stryker was already out, towering above the mass of people, and glaring about him with his hawk-keen vision. Calendar had started to alight, his foot was leaving the step when Stryker's glance singled out their quarry98. Instantly he turned and spoke99 to his confederate. Calendar wheeled like a flash, peering eagerly in the direction indicated by the captain's index finger, then, snapping instructions to his driver, threw himself heavily back on the seat. Stryker, awkward on his land-legs, stumbled and fell in an ill-calculated attempt to hoist100 himself hastily back into the vehicle.
To the delay thus occasioned alone Kirkwood and Dorothy owed a respite101 of freedom. Their hansom was already swinging down toward the great gates of the yard, the American standing to make the driver comprehend the necessity for using the utmost speed in reaching the Craven Street address. The man proved both intelligent and obliging; Kirkwood had barely time to drop down beside the girl, ere the cab was swinging out into the Strand, to the peril102 of the toes belonging to a number of righteously indignant pedestrians103.
"Good boy!" commented Kirkwood cheerfully. "That's the greatest comfort of all London, the surprising intellectual strength the average cabby displays when you promise him a tip.... Great Heavens!" he cried, reading the girl's dismayed expression. "A tip! I never thought—!" His face lengthened104 dismally105, his eyebrows working awry106. "Now we are in for it!"
Dorothy said nothing.
He turned in the seat, twisting his neck to peep through the small rear window. "I don't see their cab," he announced. "But of course they're after us. However, Craven Street's just round the corner; if we get there first, I don't fancy Freddie Hallam will have a cordial reception for our pursuers. They must've been on watch at Cannon107 Street, and finding we were not coming in that way—of course they were expecting us because of Hobbs' wire—they took cab for Charing Cross. Lucky for us.... Or is it lucky?" he added doubtfully, to himself.
The hansom whipped round the corner into Craven Street. Kirkwood sprang up, grasping the treasure bag, ready to jump the instant they pulled in toward Mrs. Hallam's dwelling12. But as they drew near upon the address he drew back with an exclamation108 of amazement109.
The house was closed, showing a blank face to the street—blinds drawn111 close down in the windows, area gate padlocked, an estate-agent's board projecting from above the doorway112, advertising113 the property "To be let, furnished."
Kirkwood looked back, craning his neck round the side of the cab. At the moment another hansom was breaking through the rank of humanity on the Strand crossing. He saw one or two figures leap desperately114 from beneath the horse's hoofs115. Then the cab shot out swiftly down the street.
The American stood up again, catching116 the cabby's eye.
"Drive on!" he cried excitedly. "Don't stop—drive as fast as you dare!"
"W'ere to, sir?"
"See that cab behind? Don't let it catch us—shake it off, lose it somehow, but for the love of Heaven don't let it catch us! I'll make it worth your while. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir!" The driver looked briefly117 over his shoulder and lifted his whip. "Don't worry, sir," he cried, entering into the spirit of the game with gratifying zest118. "Shan't let 'em over'aul you, sir. Mind your 'ead!"
And as Kirkwood ducked, the whip-lash shot out over the roof with a crack like the report of a pistol. Startled, the horse leaped indignantly forward. Momentarily the cab seemed to leave the ground, then settled down to a pace that carried them round the Avenue Theatre and across Northumberland Avenue into Whitehall Place apparently119 on a single wheel.
A glance behind showed Kirkwood that already they had gained, the pursuing hansom having lost ground through greater caution in crossing the main-traveled thoroughfare.
"Good little horse!" he applauded.
A moment later he was indorsing without reserve the generalship of their cabby; the quick westward120 turn that took them into Whitehall, over across from the Horse Guards, likewise placed them in a pocket of traffic; a practically impregnable press of vehicles closed in behind them ere Calendar's conveyance could follow out of the side street.
That the same conditions, but slightly modified, hemmed121 them in ahead, went for nothing in Kirkwood's estimation.
"Good driver!" he approved heartily122. "He's got a head on his shoulders!"
The girl found her voice. "How," she demanded in a breath, face blank with consternation123, "how did you dare?"
"Dare?" he echoed exultantly124; and in his veins125 excitement was running like liquid fire. "What wouldn't I dare for you, Dorothy?"
"What have you not?" she amended126 softly, adding with a shade of timidity: "Philip..."
The long lashes127 swept up from her cheeks, like clouds revealing stars, unmasking eyes radiant and brave to meet his own; then they fell, even as her lips drooped128 with disappointment. And she sighed.... For he was not looking. Man-like, hot with the ardor129 of the chase, he was deaf and blind to all else.
She saw that he had not even heard. Twice within the day she had forgotten herself, had overstepped the rigid130 bounds of her breeding in using his Christian131 name. And twice he had been oblivious132 to that token of their maturing understanding. So she sighed, and sighing, smiled again; resting an elbow on the window-sill and flattening133 one small gloved hand against the frame for a brace134 against the jouncing of the hansom. It swept on with unabated speed, up-stream beside the tawny135 reaches of the river; and for a time there was no speech between them, the while the girl lost consciousness of self and her most imminent136 peril, surrendering her being to the lingering sweetness of her long, dear thoughts....
"I've got a scheme!" Kirkwood declared so explosively that she caught her breath with the surprise of it. "There's the Pless; they know me there, and my credit's good. When we shake them off, we can have the cabby take us to the hotel. I'll register and borrow from the management enough to pay our way to Chiltern and the tolls137 for a cable to New York. I've a friend or two over home who wouldn't let me want for a few miserable138 pounds.... So you see," he explained boyishly, "we're at the end of our troubles already!"
She said something inaudible, holding her face averted139. He bent140 nearer to her, wondering. "I didn't understand," he suggested.
Still looking from him, "I said you were very good to me," she said in a quavering whisper.
"Dorothy!" Without his knowledge or intention before the fact, as instinctively141 as he made use of her given name, intimately, his strong fingers dropped and closed upon the little hand that lay beside him. "What is the matter, dear?" He leaned still farther forward to peer into her face, till glance met glance in the ending and his racing142 pulses tightened143 with sheer delight of the humid happiness in her glistening144 eyes. "Dorothy, child, don't worry so. No harm shall come to you. It's all working out—all working out right. Only have a little faith in me, and I'll make everything work out right, Dorothy."
Gently she freed her fingers. "I wasn't," she told him in a voice that quivered between laughter and tears, "I wasn't worrying. I was ... You wouldn't understand. Don't be afraid I shall break down or—or anything."
"I shan't," he reassured145 her; "I know you're not that sort. Besides, you'd have no excuse. We're moving along famously. That cabby knows his business."
In fact that gentleman was minute by minute demonstrating his peculiar146 fitness for the task he had so cheerfully undertaken. The superior horsemanship of the London hackney cabman needs no exploitation, and he in whose hands rested the fate of the Calendar treasure was peer of his compeers. He was instant to advantage himself of every opening to forward his pliant147 craft, quick to foresee the fortunes of the way and govern himself accordingly.
Estimating with practised eye the precise moment when the police supervisor148 of traffic at the junction149 of Parliament and Bridge Streets, would see fit to declare a temporary blockade, he so managed that his was the last vehicle to pass ere the official wand, to ignore which involves a forfeited151 license152, was lifted; and indeed, so close was his calculation that he escaped only with a scowl153 and word of warning from the bobby. A matter of no importance whatever, since his end was gained and the pursuing cab had been shut off by the blockade.
In Calendar's driver, however, he had an adversary154 of abilities by no means to be despised. Precisely how the man contrived155 it, is a question; that he made a detour156 by way of Derby Street is not improbable, unpleasant as it may have been for Stryker and Calendar to find themselves in such close proximity157 to "the Yard." At all events, he evaded158 the block, and hardly had the chase swung across Bridge Street, than the pursuer was nimbly clattering159 in its wake.
Past the Houses of Parliament, through Old Palace Yard, with the Abbey on their left, they swung away into Abingdon Street, whence suddenly they dived into the maze110 of backways, great and mean, which lies to the south of Victoria. Doubling and twisting, now this way, now that, the driver tooled them through the intricate heart of this labyrinth160, leading the pursuers a dance that Kirkwood thought calculated to dishearten and shake off the pursuit in the first five minutes. Yet always, peering back through the little peephole, he saw Calendar's cab pelting161 doggedly162 in their rear—a hundred yards behind, no more, no less, hanging on with indomitable grit163 and determination.
By degrees they drew westwards, threading Pimlico, into Chelsea—once dashing briefly down the Grosvenor Road, the Thames a tawny flood beyond the river wall.
Children cheered them on, and policemen turned to stare, doubting whether they should interfere164. Minutes rolled into tens, measuring out an hour; and still they hammered on, hunted and hunters, playing their game of hare-and-hounds through the highways and byways of those staid and aged150 quarters.
In the leading cab there were few words spoken. Kirkwood and Dorothy alike sat spellbound with the fascination165 of the game; if it is conceivable that the fox enjoys his part in the day's sport, then they were enjoying themselves. Now one spoke, now another—chiefly in the clipped phraseology, of excitement. As—
"We're gaining?"
"Yes—think so."
Or, "We'll tire them out?"
"Sure-ly."
"They can't catch us, can they, Philip?"
"Never in the world."
But he spoke with a confidence that he himself did not feel, for hope as he would he could never see that the distance between the two had been materially lessened166 or increased. Their horses seemed most evenly matched.
The sun was very low behind the houses of the Surrey Side when Kirkwood became aware that their horse was flagging, though (as comparison determined) no more so than the one behind.
In grave concern the young man raised his hand, thrusting open the trap in the roof. Immediately the square of darkling sky was eclipsed by the cabby's face.
"Yessir?"
"You had better drive as directly as you can to the Hotel Pless," Kirkwood called up. "I'm afraid it's no use pushing your horse like this."
"I'm sure of it, sir. 'E's a good 'oss, 'e is, but 'e carn't keep goin' for hever, you know, sir."
"I know. You've done very well; you've done your best."
"Very good, sir. The Pless, you said, sir? Right."
The trap closed.
Two blocks farther, and their pace had so sensibly moderated that Kirkwood was genuinely alarmed. The pursuing cabby was lashing167 his animal without mercy, while, "It aren't no use my w'ippin' 'im, sir," dropped through the trap. "'E's doing orl 'e can."
"I understand."
Despondent168 recklessness tightened Kirkwood's lips and kindled169 an unpleasant light in his eyes. He touched his side pocket; Calendar's revolver was still there.... Dorothy should win away clear, if—if he swung for it.
He bent forward with the traveling bag in his hands.
"What are you going to do?" The girl's voice was very tremulous.
"Stand a chance, take a losing hazard. Can you run? You're not too tired?"
"I can run—perhaps not far—a little way, at least."
"And will you do as I say?"
Her eyes met his, unwavering, bespeaking170 her implicit171 faith.
"Promise!"
"I promise."
"We'll have to drop off in a minute. The horse won't last.... They're in the same box. Well, I undertake to stand 'em off for a bit; you take the bag and run for it. Just as soon as I can convince them, I'll follow, but if there's any delay, you call the first cab you see and drive to the Pless. I'll join you there."
He stood up, surveying the neighborhood. Behind him the girl lifted her voice in protest.
"No, Philip, no!"
"You've promised," he said sternly, eyes ranging the street.
"I don't care; I won't leave you."
He shook his head in silent contradiction, frowning; but not frowning because of the girl's mutiny. He was a little puzzled by a vague impression, and was striving to pin it down for recognition; but was so thoroughly172 bemused with fatigue173 and despair that only with great difficulty could he force his faculties174 to logical reasoning, his memory to respond to his call upon it.
The hansom was traversing a street in Old Brompton—a quaint175, prim176 by-way lined with dwellings singularly Old-Worldish, even for London. He seemed to know it subjectively177, to have retained a memory of it from another existence: as the stage setting of a vivid dream, all forgotten, will sometimes recur178 with peculiar and exasperating179 intensity180, in broad daylight. The houses, with their sloping, red-tiled roofs, unexpected gables, spontaneous dormer windows, glass panes181 set in leaded frames, red brick fa?ades trimmed with green shutters182 and doorsteps of white stone, each sitting back, sedate183 and self-sufficient, in its trim dooryard fenced off from the public thoroughfare: all wore an aspect hauntingly familiar, and yet strange.
A corner sign, remarked in passing, had named the spot "Aspen Villas"; though he felt he knew the sound of those syllables184 as well as he did the name of the Pless, strive as he might he failed to make them convey anything tangible185 to his intelligence. When had he heard of it? At what time had his errant footsteps taken him through this curious survival of Eighteenth Century London?
Not that it mattered when. It could have no possible bearing on the emergency. He really gave it little thought; the mental processes recounted were mostly subconscious186, if none the less real. His objective attention was wholly preoccupied with the knowledge that Calendar's cab was drawing perilously187 near. And he was debating whether or not they should alight at once and try to make a better pace afoot, when the decision was taken wholly out of his hands.
Blindly staggering on, wilted188 with weariness, the horse stumbled in the shafts189 and plunged190 forward on its knees. Quick as the driver was to pull it up, with a cruel jerk of the bits, Kirkwood was caught unprepared; lurching against the dashboard, he lost his footing, grasped frantically191 at the unstable192 air, and went over, bringing up in a sitting position in the gutter193, with a solid shock that jarred his very teeth.
For a moment dazed he sat there blinking; by the time he got to his feet, the girl stood beside him, questioning him with keen solicitude.
"No," he gasped194; "not hurt—only surprised. Wait...."
Their cab had come to a complete standstill; Calendar's was no more than twenty yards behind, and as Kirkwood caught sight of him the fat adventurer was in the act of lifting himself ponderously195 out of the seat.
Incontinently the young man turned to the girl and forced the traveling-bag into her hands.
"Run for it!" he begged her. "Don't stop to argue. You promised—run! I'll come...."
"Philip!" she pleaded.
"Dorothy!" he cried in torment196.
Perhaps it was his unquestionable distress197 that weakened her. Suddenly she yielded—with whatever reason. He was only hazily198 aware of the swish of her skirts behind him; he had no time to look round and see that she got away safely. He had only eyes and thoughts for Calendar and Stryker.
They were both afoot, now, and running toward him, the one as awkward as the other, but neither yielding a jot199 of their malignant200 purpose. He held the picture of it oddly graphic201 in his memory for many a day thereafter: Calendar making directly, for him, his heavy-featured face a dull red with the exertion202, his fat head dropped forward as if too heavy for his neck of a bull, his small eyes bright with anger; Stryker shying off at a discreet203 angle, evidently with the intention of devoting himself to the capture of the girl; the two cabs with their dejected screws, at rest in the middle of the quiet, twilit street. He seemed even to see himself, standing stockily prepared, hands in his coat pockets, his own head inclined with a suggestion of pugnacity204.
To this mental photograph another succeeds, of the same scene an instant later; all as it had been before, their relative positions unchanged, save that Stryker and Calendar had come to a dead stop, and that Kirkwood's right arm was lifted and extended, pointing at the captain.
So forgetful of self was he, that it required a moment's thought to convince him that he was really responsible for the abrupt transformation. Incredulously he realized that he had drawn Calendar's revolver and pulled Stryker up short, in mid-stride, by the mute menace of it, as much as by his hoarse205 cry of warning:
"Stryker—not another foot—"
With this there chimed in Dorothy's voice, ringing bell-clear from a little distance:
"Philip!"
Like a flash he wheeled, to add yet another picture to his mental gallery.
Perhaps two-score feet up the sidewalk a gate stood open; just outside it a man of tall and slender figure, rigged out in a bizarre costume consisting mainly of a flowered dressing-gown and slippers206, was waiting in an attitude of singular impassivity; within it, pausing with a foot lifted to the doorstep, bag in hand, her head turned as she looked back, was Dorothy.
A costume consisting mainly of a flowered dressing-gown and slippers.
As he comprehended these essential details of the composition, the man in the flowered dressing-gown raised a hand, beckoning207 to him in a manner as imperative208 as his accompanying words.
"Kirkwood!" he saluted209 the young man in a clear and vibrant210 voice, "put up that revolver and stop this foolishness." And, with a jerk of his head towards the doorway, in which Dorothy now waited, hesitant: "Come, sir—quickly!"
Kirkwood choked on a laugh that was half a sob211. "Brentwick!" he cried, restoring the weapon to his pocket and running toward his friend. "Of all happy accidents!"
"You may call it that," retorted the elder man with a fleeting9 smile as Kirkwood slipped inside the dooryard. "Come," he said; "let's get into the house."
"But you said—I thought you went to Munich," stammered Kirkwood; and so thoroughly impregnated was his mind with this understanding that it was hard for him to adjust his perceptions to the truth.
"I was detained—by business," responded Brentwick briefly. His gaze, weary and wistful behind his glasses, rested on the face of the girl on the threshold of his home; and the faint, sensitive flush of her face deepened. He stopped and honored her with a bow that, for all his fantastical attire212, would have graced a beau of an earlier decade. "Will you be pleased to enter?" he suggested punctiliously213. "My house, such as it is, is quite at your disposal. And," he added, with a glance over his shoulder, "I fancy that a word or two may presently be passed which you would hardly care to hear."
Dorothy's hesitation214 was but transitory; Kirkwood was reassuring215 her with a smile more like his wonted boyish grin than anything he had succeeded in conjuring216 up throughout the day. Her own smile answered it, and with a murmured word of gratitude and a little, half timid, half distant bow for Brentwick, she passed on into the hallway.
Kirkwood lingered with his friend upon the door-stoop. Calendar, recovered from his temporary consternation, was already at the gate, bending over it, fat fingers fumbling217 with the latch218, his round red face, lifted to the house, darkly working with chagrin219.
From his threshold, watching him with a slight contraction220 of the eyes, Brentwick hailed him in tones of cloying221 courtesy.
"Do you wish to see me, sir?"
The fat adventurer faltered222 just within the gateway223; then, with a truculent224 swagger, "I want my daughter," he declared vociferously225.
Brentwick peered mildly over his glasses, first at Calendar, then at Kirkwood. His glance lingered a moment on the young man's honest eyes, and swung back to Calendar.
"My good man," he said with sublime226 tolerance, "will you be pleased to take yourself off—to the devil if you like? Or shall I take the trouble to interest the police?"
He removed one fine and fragile hand from a pocket of the flowered dressing-gown, long enough to jerk it significantly toward the nearer street-corner.
Thunderstruck, Calendar glanced hastily in the indicated direction. A blue-coated bobby was to be seen approaching with measured stride, diffusing227 upon the still evening air an impression of ineffably228 capable self-contentment.
Calendar's fleshy lips parted and closed without a sound. They quivered. Beneath them quivered his assortment229 of graduated chins. His heavy and pendulous230 cheeks quivered, slowly empurpling with the dark tide of his apoplectic231 wrath232. The close-clipped thatch233 of his iron gray mustache, even, seemed to bristle234 like hairs upon the neck of a maddened dog. Beneath him his fat legs trembled, and indeed his whole huge carcass shook visibly, in the stress of his restrained wrath.
Suddenly, overwhelmed, he banged the gate behind him and waddled235 off to join the captain; who already, with praiseworthy native prudence236, had fallen back upon their cab.
From his coign of strategic advantage, the comfortable elevation237 of his box, Kirkwood's cabby, whose huge enjoyment238 of the adventurers' discomfiture239 had throughout been noisily demonstrative, entreated240 Calendar with lifted forefinger241, bland242 affability, and expressions of heartfelt sympathy.
"Kebsir? 'Ave a kebsir, do! Try a ride be'ind a real 'orse, sir; don't you go on wastin' time on 'im." A jerk of a derisive243 thumb singled out the other cabman. "'E aren't pl'yin' you fair, sir; I knows 'im,—'e's a hartful g'y deceiver, 'e is. Look at 'is 'orse,—w'ich it aren't; it's a snyle, that's w'at it is. Tyke a father's hadvice, sir, and next time yer fairest darter runs awye with the dook in disguise, chyse 'em in a real kebsir, not a cheap imitashin.... Kebsir?... Garn, you 'ard-'arted—"
Here he swooped244 upwards245 in a dizzy flight of vituperation best unrecorded. Calendar, beyond an absent-minded flirt246 of one hand by his ear, as who should shoo away a buzzing insect, ignored him utterly.
Sullenly247 extracting money from his pocket, he paid off his driver, and in company with Stryker, trudged248 in morose249 silence down the street.
Brentwick touched Kirkwood's arm and drew him into the house.
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1
tinted
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| adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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2
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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3
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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4
recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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5
repelled
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| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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6
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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7
vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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8
fleetingly
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| adv.飞快地，疾驰地 | |
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9
fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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10
charing
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| n.炭化v.把…烧成炭，把…烧焦( char的现在分词 )；烧成炭，烧焦；做杂役女佣 | |
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11
dwellings
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| n.住处，处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
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12
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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13
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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14
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15
query
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| n.疑问，问号，质问；vt.询问，表示怀疑 | |
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16
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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17
essentially
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| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
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18
vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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19
smitten
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| 猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去分词 ) | |
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20
entreating
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的现在分词 ) | |
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21
eloquently
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| adv. 雄辩地(有口才地, 富于表情地) | |
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22
fatuous
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| adj.愚昧的；昏庸的 | |
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23
diplomacy
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| n.外交；外交手腕，交际手腕 | |
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24
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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25
adept
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| adj.老练的，精通的 | |
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26
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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27
formulated
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| v.构想出( formulate的过去式和过去分词 )；规划；确切地阐述；用公式表示 | |
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28
pensively
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| adv.沉思地，焦虑地 | |
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29
preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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30
jolting
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| adj.令人震惊的 | |
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31
merged
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| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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32
haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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33
glamorous
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| adj.富有魅力的；美丽动人的；令人向往的 | |
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34
waned
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| v.衰落( wane的过去式和过去分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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35
fabric
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| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
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36
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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37
wrestled
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| v.（与某人）搏斗( wrestle的过去式和过去分词 )；扭成一团；扭打；（与…）摔跤 | |
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38
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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39
drearily
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| 沉寂地，厌倦地，可怕地 | |
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40
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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41
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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42
tolerance
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| n.宽容；容忍，忍受；耐药力；公差 | |
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43
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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44
exasperation
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| n.愤慨 | |
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45
strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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46
specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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47
synonyms
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| 同义词( synonym的名词复数 ) | |
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48
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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49
askew
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| adv.斜地；adj.歪斜的 | |
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50
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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52
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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53
disclaim
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| v.放弃权利，拒绝承认 | |
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54
extravagant
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| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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55
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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56
warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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57
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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58
stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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59
swerved
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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61
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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62
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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63
pier
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| n.码头；桥墩，桥柱；[建]窗间壁，支柱 | |
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64
transformation
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| n.变化；改造；转变 | |
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65
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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66
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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67
shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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68
weirdly
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| 古怪地 | |
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69
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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70
swooping
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的现在分词 ) | |
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71
gulls
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| n.鸥( gull的名词复数 )v.欺骗某人( gull的第三人称单数 ) | |
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72
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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73
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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74
glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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75
dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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76
compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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77
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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78
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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79
manifestation
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| n.表现形式；表明；现象 | |
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80
stodgy
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| adj.易饱的；笨重的；滞涩的；古板的 | |
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81
bowlers
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| n.（板球）投球手( bowler的名词复数 )；圆顶高帽 | |
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82
sleek
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| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
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83
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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84
outrageous
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| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
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85
plumed
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| 饰有羽毛的 | |
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86
lurk
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| n.潜伏，潜行；v.潜藏，潜伏，埋伏 | |
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87
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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88
ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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89
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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90
conspirators
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| n.共谋者，阴谋家( conspirator的名词复数 ) | |
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91
apprehended
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| 逮捕，拘押( apprehend的过去式和过去分词 )； 理解 | |
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92
crassest
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| adj.愚笨的，粗鲁的，全然不顾他人的( crass的最高级 ) | |
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93
congregated
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| （使）集合，聚集( congregate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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94
irresolutely
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| adv.优柔寡断地 | |
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95
strand
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| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
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96
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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97
conveyance
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| n.(不动产等的)转让，让与；转让证书；传送；运送；表达；（正）运输工具 | |
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98
quarry
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| n.采石场；v.采石；费力地找 | |
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99
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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100
hoist
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| n.升高，起重机，推动；v.升起，升高，举起 | |
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101
respite
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| n.休息，中止，暂缓 | |
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102
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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103
pedestrians
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| n.步行者( pedestrian的名词复数 ) | |
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104
lengthened
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| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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105
dismally
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| adv.阴暗地，沉闷地 | |
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106
awry
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| adj.扭曲的，错的 | |
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107
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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108
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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109
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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110
maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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111
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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112
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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113
advertising
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| n.广告业；广告活动 a.广告的；广告业务的 | |
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114
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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115
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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116
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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117
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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118
zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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119
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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120
westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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121
hemmed
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| 缝…的褶边( hem的过去式和过去分词 )； 包围 | |
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122
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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123
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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124
exultantly
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| adv.狂欢地，欢欣鼓舞地 | |
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125
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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126
Amended
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| adj. 修正的 动词amend的过去式和过去分词 | |
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127
lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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128
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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129
ardor
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| n.热情，狂热 | |
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130
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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131
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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132
oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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133
flattening
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| n. 修平 动词flatten的现在分词 | |
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134
brace
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| n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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135
tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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136
imminent
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| adj.即将发生的，临近的，逼近的 | |
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137
tolls
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| （缓慢而有规律的）钟声( toll的名词复数 )； 通行费； 损耗； （战争、灾难等造成的）毁坏 | |
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138
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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139
averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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140
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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141
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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142
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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143
tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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144
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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145
reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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146
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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147
pliant
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| adj.顺从的；可弯曲的 | |
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148
supervisor
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| n.监督人，管理人，检查员，督学，主管，导师 | |
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149
junction
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| n.连接，接合；交叉点，接合处，枢纽站 | |
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150
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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151
forfeited
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| （因违反协议、犯规、受罚等）丧失，失去( forfeit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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152
license
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| n.执照，许可证，特许；v.许可，特许 | |
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153
scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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154
adversary
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| adj.敌手，对手 | |
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155
contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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156
detour
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| n.绕行的路，迂回路；v.迂回，绕道 | |
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157
proximity
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| n.接近，邻近 | |
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158
evaded
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| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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159
clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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160
labyrinth
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| n.迷宫；难解的事物；迷路 | |
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161
pelting
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| 微不足道的，无价值的，盛怒的 | |
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162
doggedly
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| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
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163
grit
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| n.沙粒，决心，勇气；v.下定决心，咬紧牙关 | |
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164
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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165
fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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166
lessened
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| 减少的，减弱的 | |
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167
lashing
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| n.鞭打；痛斥；大量；许多v.鞭打( lash的现在分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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168
despondent
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| adj.失望的，沮丧的，泄气的 | |
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169
kindled
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| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
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170
bespeaking
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| v.预定( bespeak的现在分词 )；订（货）；证明；预先请求 | |
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171
implicit
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| a.暗示的，含蓄的，不明晰的，绝对的 | |
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172
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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173
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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174
faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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175
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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176
prim
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| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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177
subjectively
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| 主观地； 臆 | |
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178
recur
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| vi.复发，重现，再发生 | |
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179
exasperating
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| adj. 激怒的 动词exasperate的现在分词形式 | |
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180
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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181
panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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182
shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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183
sedate
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| adj.沉着的，镇静的，安静的 | |
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184
syllables
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| n.音节( syllable的名词复数 ) | |
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185
tangible
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| adj.有形的，可触摸的，确凿的，实际的 | |
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186
subconscious
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| n./adj.潜意识(的)，下意识(的) | |
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187
perilously
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| adv.充满危险地，危机四伏地 | |
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188
wilted
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| （使）凋谢，枯萎( wilt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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189
shafts
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| n.轴( shaft的名词复数 )；（箭、高尔夫球棒等的）杆；通风井；一阵（疼痛、害怕等） | |
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190
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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191
frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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192
unstable
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| adj.不稳定的，易变的 | |
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193
gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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194
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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195
ponderously
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196
torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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197
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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198
hazily
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| ad. vaguely, not clear | |
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199
jot
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| n.少量；vi.草草记下；vt.匆匆写下 | |
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200
malignant
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| adj.恶性的，致命的；恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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201
graphic
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| adj.生动的，形象的，绘画的，文字的，图表的 | |
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202
exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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203
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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204
pugnacity
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| n.好斗，好战 | |
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205
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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206
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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207
beckoning
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| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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208
imperative
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| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
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209
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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210
vibrant
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| adj.震颤的，响亮的，充满活力的，精力充沛的，(色彩)鲜明的 | |
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211
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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212
attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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213
punctiliously
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214
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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215
reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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216
conjuring
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| n.魔术 | |
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217
fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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218
latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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219
chagrin
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| n.懊恼；气愤；委屈 | |
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220
contraction
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| n.缩略词，缩写式，害病 | |
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221
cloying
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| adj.甜得发腻的 | |
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222
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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223
gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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224
truculent
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| adj.野蛮的，粗野的 | |
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225
vociferously
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| adv.喊叫地，吵闹地 | |
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226
sublime
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| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
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227
diffusing
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| （使光）模糊，漫射，漫散( diffuse的现在分词 )； （使）扩散； （使）弥漫； （使）传播 | |
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228
ineffably
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| adv.难以言喻地，因神圣而不容称呼地 | |
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229
assortment
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| n.分类，各色俱备之物，聚集 | |
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230
pendulous
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| adj.下垂的；摆动的 | |
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231
apoplectic
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| adj.中风的；愤怒的；n.中风患者 | |
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232
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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233
thatch
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| vt.用茅草覆盖…的顶部；n.茅草(屋) | |
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234
bristle
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| v.（毛发）直立，气势汹汹，发怒；n.硬毛发 | |
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235
waddled
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| v.（像鸭子一样）摇摇摆摆地走( waddle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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236
prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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237
elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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238
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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239
discomfiture
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| n.崩溃；大败；挫败；困惑 | |
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240
entreated
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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241
forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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242
bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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243
derisive
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| adj.嘲弄的 | |
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244
swooped
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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245
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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246
flirt
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| v.调情，挑逗，调戏；n.调情者，卖俏者 | |
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247
sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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248
trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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249
morose
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| adj.脾气坏的，不高兴的 | |
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